Amanda Grange & Jacqueline Webb by Pride, Pyramids

John looked decidedly pale, while Sophie could walk nowhere without falling over. Elizabeth spent most of her time at the front of the ship, where no one could see how green she was looking, and Darcy spent a great deal of time with the captain, trying to take his mind off his ills by learning about their voyage. Edward remained in his cabin, from where groans emerged periodically, and Paul found himself a few choice spots from which to observe, sketch, and paint. Since neither he nor Beth suffered any great ill effects from the motion of the ship, they were often together, with Paul taking a kindly interest in her talented drawings and Beth regarding him with adoration.
    By and by they all adjusted to the motion of the ship. Even Mrs Bennet, whose early elation at being one of the party had disappeared when she had felt the first wave of nausea, began to like the voyage.
    And indeed, there was much to enjoy: the sound of the sails flapping in the breeze; the creaking of the ropes; the variety of the blues and greens of the ocean; the ever changing waves; the clean tang of salt; the sightings of unusual sea birds; the joy of seeing great schools of fish; the exciting and colourful ports at which they called to pick up fresh supplies; and the pleasure of finding letters from friends and relatives waiting for them in every port.
    For Darcy there was also the joy of seeing his family adjusting so well to shipboard life. He felt a swell of pride as he walked onto deck one morning and saw John swarming up the rigging, finally climbing into the crow’s nest; for while the rest of the party had been content to continue their normal pursuits on board, John had availed himself of every opportunity for activity and new experiences. Whenever his studies had allowed—and the children were often occupied with their tutors—he learned how to set sails, tie knots, and even take the wheel. Darcy stood for a moment, delighted to see his eager and energetic son enjoying himself.
    â€œThat is quite a boy you have there,” said the captain, as John helped to unfurl a sail which had become caught in the rigging. “He tells me he intends to go into the army, but it is a loss for the navy. I would have been glad of him on my naval ship before I left to pursue civilian life, and any captain would feel the same. The boy is bold and adventurous, but he does not take any unnecessary risks, and he tempers his adventurous spirit with intelligence.”
    Darcy’s heart swelled even further with paternal pride at this. But then, all of a sudden, the realisation hit him that John was growing up. He had always known it, but he had envisaged John merely a year or two in the future. Now he saw that soon John would become a man—a fine man, but one who would no longer need him. He was suddenly aware of a feeling of emptiness and loss and he understood how Elizabeth felt when she did not want her youngest son to be sent away to school. He had a wish to seize the moment and hold on to it, to stretch it out so that it would never end. It was captured in all its detail, with the sound of the gulls and the crack of the sails and the concentration on his son’s face. And then John swarmed down the rigging and ran up to show him a new knot he had just learned to tie, and Darcy saw him as a ten-year-old boy once more and let the moment move on.
    Laurence, meanwhile, was playing around his grandmama’s skirts. He had at first wanted to join in his older brother’s activities, but he lacked John’s nimbleness and unfailing courage and so was content at last to run around the deck and bedevil his indulgent grandmama.
    William, always immaculately dressed and walking with the unconscious arrogance of a Darcy as he moved about the ship, pursued his studies. His one concession to his location was that he pursued them on the deck, not below, and was presently looking through a telescope out to sea.
    The girls, too, were enjoying